P has previously stood for progress, but this week, it stands for that obnoxious, ugly step-sister to progress – procrastination.
I actually have a saved draft of a post I started writing our first day back from vacation, but it was feeling too wordy to me, so I quit. It took me a good three days to even attempt to unpack our clothes and start doing laundry and now the house is a mess again. We were planning to have a birthday party for Elias on his birthday (the 6th), but I felt totally unprepared and wasn’t ready to have people invade my house, so we’re postponing until the 13th. Now I just have to hope that I can get things done and feel ready for it by then.
Our trip was good – my sister got married, I finally got to see my mother’s awesome house and yard (small house, huge yard that feels like a park…I’m so envious), we went to the zoo, hung out with some of my close friends who I haven’t seen in a long time, and ate a lot of good food (judging by my scale, a bit too much good food). Our kids did pretty good, although we had a few days of misery with Elias over some pain in his mouth (so he said, by saying “owie” and pointing to his mouth over and over again). My family went nuts over the kids – especially Erik – and nearly everyone said that Jenny is like me all over again. I got a break almost the whole time from bathing and changing and general entertaining as my family is populated with kid-lovers who are more than willing to do all of that. By the end of the trip, we were ready to come home, but I’m still glad we had as long as we did. It sort of gets it out of my system better when we take more than a week. I’m still thinking about my mom’s place, though, and I’ve decided that if I could go down by myself or just take one kid, I would go for a week and do a bunch of painting and other projects there. There’s a lot of existing work there, but it felt like an artists’ paradise in the sense that you could just keep adding things to it and it would never be overdone. There is a blank wall of fence over a pond in their backyard that I would love to paint some huge leaves and poetry onto. I’m going to paint some rocks here and send them to my mom to put in the pathways in her yard – when you’re walking on the path, little bits of colour will look up at you. It’s making my fingers itch just thinking about it.
Aside from the trip and the after effects of the trip, life has been pretty busy here. Mike came back to a huge load of work and put in 76 hours between Tuesday and Sunday. I don’t think he’s ever worked so much since we’ve been married. The credit card bill from our trip is going to be steep, but this paycheck will more than cover it. I’d be pretty happy if that was the end of the crazy overtime, but I’m sure there will be a bit of it left before work slows down at the start of winter. I’m trying to be a good wife and put up with it, but if it was like this year round, I think Mike would have to change jobs. Early in our marriage, we made a commitment to ourselves and our family that Mike would never work a camp job (for those of you not from these parts – a camp job is oilfield and often means that guys go out for weeks or months at a time without coming home at all). He loves his job now and thankfully, it doesn’t require much travel and so far has not kept him away overnight.
My friend brought something to my attention and I’m not sure how I feel about it. She reads my blog and is amazed that I “have time” to write so much and yet my house is a mess. She says she’s the opposite. She doesn’t have time to sit down and write, but keeps her house pretty immaculate. I guess it’s just a matter of how we spend our time. I hate to clean and clutter doesn’t bother me immensely, so I spend a lot of my free time writing or working on some form of arts or crafts. She hates a messy or cluttered house and so chooses to spend her time keeping her house clean. The moral? From now on, I’m going to make an effort never to say, “I don’t have time to clean,” because it’s simply not true on most days. I’ll just be honest and say, “I don’t want to clean,” and leave it at that. Because that’s the truth.